


Lethe

by koderenn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, But with the promise of an HEA, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Palpatine did something really bad, Post TROS, because why not?, canonverse, pre-TROS speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koderenn/pseuds/koderenn
Summary: Palpatines’ laughter still echoes in her ears…He is vanquished. Beaten. And yet the damage he’s done is deadlier to them than any wound of the flesh.Tears brim in her eyes at the injustice of it all.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 39
Kudos: 119
Collections: The Pink Ladies Love Exchange





	Lethe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraNoirInStardust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNoirInStardust/gifts).



> Lethe : 1) noun (lee-thee |\ li θi) oblivion, forgetfulness 2) Greek mythology a river in Hades that caused forgetfulness in those who drank its waters
> 
> A gift to the lovely and inspiring AuroraNoirInStardust as part of the Pink Ladies Love Exchange ; )
> 
> Betaed by the tireless MyJediLife.

  


Nothing could have prepared her for this.

  


For the cold gaze he sets on her when he opens his eyes. All the joy and elation and blessed relief at seeing him alive and breathing are gone in a heartbeat.

  


He is lying in her arms - here at the end of it all - looking at her as if she's a sworn enemy.

  


"Ben?"

  


She hesitates - for a split moment wondering if he'll even respond to the name - and tries to caress a matted strand of hair away from his face. The gesture is not menacing, but he pulls away.

  


"Don't touch me."

  


Her hand recoils as if bitten.

  


Surprise, hostility and even a little fear flee from his features, as he realizes the vulnerable state he is in. He tries to get off her lap.

  


"What's wrong?" She clutches his thick cloak as he tries to move away. All her instincts scream at her to anchor him down. “Wait! You're hurt...You shouldn’t move so suddenly."

  


His gaze drips like ice water down her spine.

  


"I’m fine,” he drawls, clasping her wrists and tugging them away. He continues to regard her as if she’s a stranger. "Just because we fought on the same side does not mean we're friends."

  


Her breath leaves her body in a soundless wheeze.

  


He can't possibly mean that. Surely, there must be some kind of misunderstanding. Ben would never say something like that to her now - after all they have gone through. He would never fall back to their old patterns of antagonism.

  


_Not after..._

  


But his suspicion and distrust is more palpable than the rough fabric in her hands. 

  


Rey blinks at him.

  


_He doesn't remember us._ She realizes with sudden clarity. _He doesn't..._

  


Her whole body goes numb. Her fingers slip from his cloak.

  


He attempts to get up again with a grunt. Blood is trickling down his temple, and a bruise is spreading on the high bone of his cheek. His impact against the graveled ground had been a harsh one. But Rey does not believe that’s the reason behind his distant behavior.

  


Palpatines’ laughter still echoes in her ears…

  


Rey digs her fingertips into the mud.

  


Darth Sidious is vanquished. Beaten. And yet the damage he’s done is deadlier to them than any wound of the flesh. 

  


Tears brim in her eyes at the injustice of it all, that she hopes Ben won't notice.

  


The pulsing connection between them no longer exists. It is severed. Ripped away. Tossed into the vastness of the Force as if it were never there to begin with. The soft curl of his lips when he would gaze at her, the slow unraveling of his resolve at her presence, the _undoing_ of his body at her touch.

  


All gone.

  


_Stolen_.

  


Rey wishes she could laugh at this cosmic joke.

  


Is there a point in telling him the truth? Telling him they were more than mortal enemies uniting against the greater evil? He doesn’t _remember._

  


“You took a blow to the head…”

  


He clutches at his side as he staggers to his feet. It takes all she has not to rush to him.

  


“...and you might have a broken rib or two.”

  


He works his jaw in irritation and looks away from her, studying the barren grounds they are on. 

  


“My ship is ruined,” he states. At least he remembers that. “Do you have a way out of here?”

  


Rey nods. He won’t be too happy with her transport.

  


“Good.” He narrows his eyes at lightning that flashes in the distance. The storm is receding, dragging behind it the last shadows of night. A new dawn is approaching, and with it hope for a better tomorrow. 

  


_Or so they say._

  


Rey feels anything but hopeful right now.

  


She gets off the ground as well, wiping the dirt from her knees. She needs to pull herself together somehow and stop making a fool of herself. There is no room for sentiment between them. He is making it quite clear. 

  


She ignores the painful throb of her heart.

  


Blood has seeped through her right arm wrap from a gash on her shoulder, and her outfit - from what she can tell - is in ruins. Ben seems to be better put together than she is, despite the fact that he has no recollection of their shared past in his raging head.

  


“You’re bleeding.”

  


Rey lifts her eyes to his.

  


_Stars_ , they look so dark in the night. So different than the warm brown that has haunted her since the day they met. He's looking at her expectedly, waiting for some kind of an acknowledgement. At least he’s somewhat aware of her condition, and cares enough to comment.

  


"Yeah," she glances at the ugly gash. It will definitely need stitches. Maybe even a bacta patch - it looks rather gruesome. "It's just a cut."

  


"It's not _just_ a cut. You have probably severed ligaments, or grazed the bone. Let me see."

  


She braces herself for pain as his large hand wraps around her arm. But the truth is, his touch is gentler than she expected. He examines the wound with a crease between his brows. His thumb wipes away the blood and dirt trickling down the scar that she carries since their joined fight against Snoke in the Throne room.

  


"What's this?" He traces the puckered skin with the leather of his glove. 

  


Rey looks away, feeling her cheeks heat. The last time he had touched it was with his warm lips and soft tongue.

  


"It's nothing...Just a battle scar." 

  


She doesn't mention how much it always reminds her of their fingers touching from across a galaxy, over a small fire in a hut. 

  


What's the use? There is no bond anymore. And he doesn't _remember._

  


His grasp on her tightens and suddenly she feels a curled leather finger trailing down her cheek.

  


"You have been crying," he says. "There are tear marks down your cheeks. Were they for me?"

  


Rey tugs her arm away, but he doesn't let go. She can feel his heavy gaze on her, his curiosity brushing against the outskirts of her mind. 

  


_Yes._

  


She wants to scream at him. She wants to tell him that he had practically died in her arms. That she had nearly lost her mind when she couldn't feel him in the Force, and that she had pounded on his barren chest, like a fool, praying for a heartbeat.

  


But what's the point now? He no longer _remembers_.

  


"No. Why would I cry for you? We are enemies."

  


She tugs her arm away from his grasp, trying to ignore the fleeting rejection in his eyes. That cut stings like a bitch.

  


She begins to walk away, feet pounding on the rough ground. "If you want a ride out of here,” she says without sparing him a glance. “I suggest you come with me now."

  


Rey only takes a few steps before she hears the crunch of pebbles under his heavy boots. It seems like he'll be joining her. It’s not as if he has many choices, after all.

  


Rey tries to squash the sliver of hope fluttering in her chest. 

  


“So what’s the piece of Resistance garbage we’ll be flying out in?” The low timbre of his voice comes from a lot closer than she thought. He’s probably only a step or two behind her, close enough to touch her If he reached out. The memory of his calloused hands on her bare skin cause a shiver to run down her body.

  


_Gods,_ she misses his touch.

  


“The Millenium Falcon. Han Solo’s ship,” she informs him flatly.

  


He doesn’t say anything back, which makes her regret the nonchalant way she tossed out his father’s name. There’s no reason for her to be petty just because he doesn’t remember the best moments of her life.

  


“Rey.”

  


She can’t hear any crunching of pebbles anymore, so she assumes he has stopped.

  


_Damn him._

  


“What?” She turns to face him.

  


The sun is rising behind him, golden rays filling the sky. Ben is but a stark shadow standing amidst it all.

  


She squints at him. He approaches her slowly, with an indecipherable expression on his face. With every step that he takes her heart beats just a tad bit faster, and when he eventually towers over her she thinks it will break away from her ribcage.

  


He hesitates for a moment, as if contemplating his words. 

  


“I can sense there is something missing inside me. I don’t know what it is. Or what it meant. But I believe it has everything to do with you.”

  


Rey stands completely still, with bated breath, waiting for his next words to fall as if her life depends on them.

  


Ben removes his glove, one finger at a time, studying every expression on her face with an intensity that makes her knees go weak. His dark gaze roams over her face. Rey tries desperately not to show the effect he has on her. 

  


_He must not know._

  


But when his warm palm cups her cheek, softly, his face blurs in a sea of brimming tears. It’s all the verification he needs, because he leans in slowly and sets his lips to hers with a softness that seeps like honey down to her heart. His breath caresses the wet trail of her tears. 

  


It lasts a fraction of a moment, but she feels as if it could hold the promise of a lifetime. And that is all the bond she needs.

  


He sets his forehead to hers in a halo of blinding morning light.

  


"Show me what it is...Show me what's missing,” he whispers.

  


Rey nods, biting the tremble of her bottom lip. She reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together. Holds on to them tight, because she is never letting go of him again. 

  


"I'll do more than show you…" she says."I'll be your guide."

  


He smirks, and his eyes crinkle impishly. "My guide? And where will you take me?"

  


She brings his hand up and places it on top of her pounding heart, watching his expression fall. Turn into something vulnerable.

  


His Adam's apple bobs.

  


"Home…" she breathes, and closes the small space between their lips.

  


_I'm taking you home._

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Well, let's see if TROS can give us a better ending ;) Tis the season!
> 
> PS: This was first published under Anonymous before TROS. Those were innocent times.


End file.
